My Brothers and Me

My Brothers and Me

Once I lingered with my thoughts suspended,

In the mountains of West Virginia that never ended.

There in a place nicknamed little Switzerland,

My brothers and I set about our wintry plan.

With gloves and hats and coats three layers deep,

We made our plans to explore while others would sleep.

Faint whispers were many, but only heard by us three,

For to have been discovered we’d been unable to flee.

Stepping out into the early wintry morn,

A place often neglected and scorned.

Yet, new adventurers, we were to become,

As we slipped the door closed no need for breadcrumbs.

We knew the place, the mountainous trek,

A place many spoke of but few ventured was suspect.

It was through deep snow we meandered and climbed,

“Listen intently for growls,” we all reluctantly chimed.

Slothfully we mushed through the snow,

Guessing not knowing which way was best to go.

But in the end, we stood together we three,

Looking out over snow-covered scenery in glee.

With one goal left for us to attain,

We made our way back to the bottom of the terrain.

As children do, we laughed and spun tales,

Of what we had conquered, what stories to regale.

Those days of discovery are all brand new,

Have fallen into silence and out of view.

But within my heart of hearts, I see,

My brothers and me, adventurers we three.

By: Dan R. Fowler

For Astrid